


Change

by villannelle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, all of this is explained on the fic DON'T WORRY, in which widowmaker was captured by overwatch and angela nursed her back to health, she's not a part of talon anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villannelle/pseuds/villannelle
Summary: Angela visits Widowmaker at the Château, where they celebrate the one year aniversary of the woman's escape from Talon's grasp. And something else.





	Change

You’re not a morning person. 

You weren’t back then, and you still aren’t now, even after all the changes. ‘Did she use to love to wake up early in the mornings?’, you find yourself wondering. But if that’s the case then that would be one of the very few habits of Amélie that hasn’t managed to seep through the cracks of your mind and into your consciousness today. You almost burn yourself with the flame of one of the candles you were lighting, to deep in your thought to notice. You bring your finger to your lips trying to mitigate the pain, which goes away in a matter of seconds. With all the candles now lit and the sound of the yacht that’s bringing Angela in the distance, you turn around to face the stairs.

After all the investigation you’ve been doing on her these past few years, you’ve come to the realization that you have inherited more from Amélie Lacroix than you had initially suspected.  
Her love for wine and refined foods, her passion for art in different manifestations; dancing, painting or playing music. Her persistence, relentlessness… her curiosity for everything new and that almost terrifying want… no, need, to risk everything just to quench that always insatiable thirst of knowledge.

And, of course, it’s no secret that you also share her irremediable and helpless fascination with Angela Ziegler.

You’re also not sure if sagacity was one of Amélie’s fortes, but if that was the case, you are absolutely certain you have sadly not inherited that very useful trait. You’re curious, but clueless. Well intentioned, but naïve. Just like a child. It doesn’t usually bother you, since you’re rarely aware of your own ingenuousness, but it’s at times like this you wonder if things would be easier if you had just an ounce of self-knowledge and awareness to guide you.  
Because you’re completely sure of what you’re doing, there’s not a trace of doubt in your mind it’s the right choice.

But, from what you’ve gathered from several books and (in your opinion) terribly executed films, people are usually way more conflicted when they are about to propose than you are right now.

A year? Already? If it wasn’t because you were the one that initiated the process of getting rid of Talon’s influence on Widowmaker’s body, you wouldn’t believe it’d already been that long since you came to her rescue that night on Overwatch’s Gibraltar facility.

No matter how much time goes by, you will never forget the day that changed both of your lives forever. You met Widowmaker five years ago, next to the same theatre that Amélie loved to perform in. You used to visit Gerárd’s wife in that exact place year after year, until she was kidnapped by Talon’s agents. The news were devastating, and even after her disappearance you kept going there the same day of every year. It was almost like you were cursed to forever hope blindy that she would somehow appear and meet you there.

But against all odds, eventually, she did. Though it would take you a while to realize that the woman you met that night wasn’t Amélie anymore. Looking back now, you’re sure you realized the moment you looked into her eyes that that was a completely different person to the Amèlie you knew and loved. You simply were in denial, unable to let go of the thought of getting your lover back, with all that admitting she was gone entailed.

Still, now you’re grateful you remained hopeful even after realizing Widowmaker was a completely different person from the woman you fell in love with while you worked for Overwatch. After all, if it wasn’t for that, you wouldn’t have gotten to know the woman you’re in love with today.

There’s something else you’ll never be able to forget, though. About two years ago you heard the news through Winston that Widowmaker had been captured by Overwatch’s agents after they found her lair, and she was being kept captive in Gibraltar’s headquarters. You must’ve looked like you were about to faint, because when you asked the scientist to take you there, even though you resigned from Overwatch a long time ago, he agreed. You’re sure he knew about your involvement with Amélie, as most of your colleagues did despite how silent all of them were about it.  
And it’s not that Amélie’s husband wasn’t suspicious either, honestly; you’re almost sure he simply chose not to acknowledge it. It was clear he was just as infatuated with the woman as you were, and that’s simply the effect Amélie had on people. You would give up anything just to be with her, for her approval. It doesn’t matter if it meant acting like a fool, pretending your heart doesn’t break every time you look at her and she doesn’t look back… nothing was off limits. Anyone that met her could understand this.

The moment you entered that white room wearing your medical gown and an identification card on your chest, you knew Widowmaker wouldn’t understand what was going on. And at first, she didn’t. The look she gave you that evening pierced your heart. You haven’t recovered from it even after all those years.

Gaining her trust took years. But losing it only took seconds.

You couldn’t explain to her at first that you hadn’t betrayed her, that you don’t know how they found her. You couldn’t tell her how much you wanted to help. You couldn’t talk about your plans to get her out of there, because even after you managed to become the assigned doctor to her case, you were under surveillance at all times in that small room where she was now forced to reside.

That much she understood though, because even after all that happened she never once mentioned the time you’d spent together in front of those cameras, or the fact that you already knew each other for that matter. She barely spoke to you at first, but after months of just sitting and talking to her when she wouldn’t even bother to look at you, she started replying. And in a few weeks, when she started to finally show progress, you got the guards to stop following you into the room every time you visited her. With only video surveillance getting in the way of your privacy, you could at least explain to her some things. She started to behave even more, and claiming that removing the cameras would make Widowmaker more comfortable and help her open up to you was enough to finally get a moment completely alone with the sniper after months.

Now it’s been a year since she had her trial, not judged as Amélie Lacroix, but as her own woman; Widowmaker. With your help and the woman’s cooperation, the defense claimed that she had been under the control of Talon for years, so she couldn’t be punished for the crimes she had committed during that period of time. She agreed to share all the information she had on the organization if she was set free and allowed to live in the Château Guillard where she had been residing, since Talon apparently didn’t know of its existence as far as anyone was concerned.

And with that, she officially stopped being Amélie Lacroix to society, and became Widowmaker in all legal effects.

Now it’s been a year since you first took her to the Château, where she lives with a group of omnics that take care of most of the household duties and make sure that she’s safe and out of Talon’s reach. The both of you started decorating it together, and even though you are really busy now that you’re back on Overwatch’s team, you visit her as often as you can. It became a silent agreement that with the birth of Widowmaker’s independence your relationship also became something official. You couldn’t go out in the open together… well, Widowmaker couldn’t just go out in the open at all. If Talon got her hands on her God knows what terrible things they would do. But you two still can’t share your relationship to the world, at least not yet. It’d be suspicious and would reveal the truth about why you were so intent on setting her free in the first time, which would result in you admitting to having a relationship with a Talon agent, which wouldn’t look too well on your curriculum to be honest.

It wasn’t your idea, however, to celebrate this anniversary. That seems something that normal couples do, and Widowmaker and you are far from a normal couple. It feels weird even to think of you two as a couple… it’s like you’re so much more, there’s no word to describe the bond you share with her after all you’ve gone through together. 

But, persistent as always, Widowmaker insisted on doing something special for the occasion. And, as always, you couldn’t tell her no if you tried.

Not that you aren’t excited about it, of course you are. It’s just… with work and everything, you didn’t have the time to prepare anything too special. And knowing Widowmaker, you’re absolutely sure she must have something extremely glamorous and impressive prepared for you. You can only hope she likes the idea you’ve come up with as you make your way to the château, one hand shielding your eyes from the sun and the other one holding onto the edge of the yacht you’re in to avoid losing balance.

When the vehicle finally leaves you in the small harbor of the island you get out and step on land, grateful to feel that steadiness beneath your feet once more. You’ll make that trip as many times as it takes if it means being able to visit Widowmaker, but it’s not your preferred method of transportation.  
That temporary lack of comfort is, however, a low price to pay for the benefit of seeing Widowmaker.  
The castle is looking as magnificient as always; tall towers rise from the sides of the main structure. On the inside you know there’s three bedrooms (not counting the gigantic room Widowmaker sleeps in), a kitchen, a ballroom, a lounge and a piano room. There’s places inside of the castle that you haven’t been able to explore together yet, but by know you’re pretty sure Widowmaker must know every single corner of the place like the palm of her hand.  
It’s clear that anyone would kill to live in such an amazing place, but it makes you sad to think Widowmaker is forced to stay whether she likes it or not. You’d love to be able to travel with her wherever you wanted, without having to worry about her getting hunted down or the government of whatever country you’re visiting not agreeing with her release into society. It’s complicated, but just like getting seasick, all of that is a small price to pay knowing that at least she has a place where she’s safe, where she belongs.  
You hope one day you will belong here, with her, too.

Thinking about it, there is something different about the place. You’ve been standing there in silence looking at the view for quite some time, and Widowmaker hasn’t come out to welcome you as she always does.  
Upon realizing this you frown slightly, confused. She’s usually already waiting for you when you arrive; considering the silence that always surrounds the island it’s pretty easy to recognize the sound of a vehicle approaching, even more when it’s as noisy as the yacht you always come in.

With a few questions in your head you decide to make your way in yourself, grabbing the small travel bag that you’ve brought with you.

As soon as you reach the main gate and raise your hand to knock on it, the enormous door opens and leaves you hanging with your hand in the air, looking at the inside with a shocked look in your face.

There’s six omnics making some kind of corridor right in front of you, each one of them holding a different instrument as they play a calming melody that you don’t think you’ve heard before. The perplexity is clear in your face, as you stand there with eyes wide open and your lips separated, not know what to do.

Luckily you don’t have to make any decisions, because before you can even move you see the figure of Widowmaker making her way down the long stairs right in front of you. She’s wearing a long pink dress that trails behind her. One of her slender hands slides down the handrail of the stairs as she steps down towards you, her piercing yellow eyes staring at you as she does so. It’s clear Widowmaker’s managed to surprise you and, judging by the smile on her face, she’s incredibly proud about it.

You can’t even smile back at her in the state of confusion you’re in, but as the woman finally arrives to the bottom of the stairs and now walks towards you between the corridor made out of omnics who are still playing their respective instruments you’re forced to actually react. Once she’s right in front of you her hands move up to caress the exposed section of your shoulders and the move back to your neck, as she leans forward to place a soft kiss in your lips. You close your eyes for a brief moment, but you open them again right as she moves away from you. Finally, you smile at her.

“I’m so happy to see you. What do you think?” The black haired asks with a cocky expression on her face, her long fingers now playing with the short hairs on your neck.

“Wow.” Is all you manage to say at first, glancing over her shoulder for a moment as you move your hands to both sides of her waist. “I’m… really impressed. It’s not what I was expecting, I guess.” You look back at her as you say this, a smile forming once more in your lips.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Widowmaker raises one of her eyebrows, still proudly smiling, as she speaks.

“It’s a good thing.” You state, nodding firmly with your head. “Definitely a good thing.”

Clearly happy to hear that answer, the woman moves her hands away from your neck and grabs your arm lightly, inviting you to walk next to her as she makes her way back across that omnic corridor. You look at all of them with a tight smile on your face; it’s obvious they’re just working robots, but you’ve worked side by side with too many conscious, intelligent omnics to feel comfortable just ignoring their presence, even though you know they probably aren’t even conscious.

“Well, the evening is only beginning.” Widowmaker hints, both of her hands curled around your arm as she looks at you, still walking. There’s a softness to her that wasn’t there before the transition. It’s clear she’s changing, and every single day she reminds you more and more of Amélie. Though you’ve finally made peace with the fact that she isn’t and will never be her, you think Amélie isn’t truly gone as long as she lives on inside Widowmaker.

And that’s more than enough for you. 

“Oh my.” You finally reply, blissfully smiling at your lover. Although neither of you is looking forward, too busy staring into each other eyes now that you can finally do it beyond a screen, Widowmaker guides you with absolutely no problem towards the master bedroom so you can leave your stuff there. “And what is it that you have planned?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” You roll your eyes at her cryptic answer, which isn’t out of character at all for the woman. She seems amused by your reaction, since she continues speaking. “Be patient. I haven’t seen you in a month; do you see me rolling my eyes miss Ziegler?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Not only are you apologizing for your lack of patience, but also for taking so long to come visit her. Work has been impossible; you don’t even know how you’ve managed to get two days off to spend with Widowmaker.

Still, you don’t say it out loud. You are perfectly aware she’s tired of hearing the same excuse time and time again, so keeping it to yourself seems like the best option. She’s more understanding than you deserve, so the least you can do is keep your excuses to yourself and just give her the apology she deserves.

Eventually you reach the main bedroom, still holding onto each other as if letting go meant one of you would disappear into thin air. As every room in the house, there’s very little furniture, but all of it is absolutely gorgeous. Everything has been handpicked by Widowmaker herself, who’s used to the minimalistic style of Talon’s headquarters where she only had a bed and a small closet to furnish her bedroom. It’s clearly been ingrained into her since even though the furniture in this room perfectly matches the castle’s elegant ambiance there’s a few empty spots where you would add maybe a desk, a lamp or a big mirror.

You’ll work on it with her, you tell yourself, when the time comes.

With almost mechanical movements you leave your bag on the right of the bed, sitting on its edge to open it and examine its contents. It’s always the same ritual when you come over to visit, and the only reason you don’t leave a change of clothes and a pajama here is because you don’t want to invade Widowmaker’s personal space. She has never had it before, and you’re sure it’s a hard enough transition for her without you creating any more obstacles.

You’ll tell her about it, you tell yourself, when the time comes.

With your mind completely blank as you aimlessly move your hands inside the bag, too preoccupied thinking to realize your partner’s movements behind you. She’s kneeled on the bed and is now behind you, fact you realize when she places her only slightly cold hands on your shoulders.

She used to be so incredibly cold. You can still remember the feeling every time she touched you. But that coldness is now slowly fading away, along with the purple tone of her skin.

You place your hand on top of hers, sitting up straight as she massages your shoulders with her experienced thumbs. A soft groan escapes your lips, and you allow yourself to close your eyes just for a moment. After a few seconds you can feel Widowmaker slightly pull your body backwards, and you open your eyes just in time to see her lean into you from above with a smile.

She kisses you soft and gently, something a few years ago you wouldn’t believe the cold blooded killer you knew would ever be able to do. Both of the woman’s hands cup your face, but your kiss can’t last for too long in such an awkward position, the top of your head pressed against her chest as her nose touches your chin with every movement.

When she moves away, you find yourself blinking repeatedly trying to regain your composure. This earns a low chuckle from Widowmaker, who makes her way around you and sits next to you on the bed.

“You look like you’ve been ran over, Angela.”

You blush, aware you start to act like a hormonal teenager every single time you’re around her. She knows the effect she has on you and loves teasing you about it. It doesn’t matter how much time you spend with her, your infatuation with this woman will never cease to amaze you.

“Well, you caught me off guard. You haven’t even bought me a drink yet.”

Now it’s Widowmaker the one that rolls her eyes, leaning forward to move her hands into the bag in front of you. You’re the one laughing this time, watching as the corners of her lip curls into a smile she tries to contain.

“Oh, and what’s this?”

If for a moment you were worried about your face being bright red, now you can only be worried about Widowmaker having found your present.

Because you’re sure she got you one so, of course, you brought the woman a present.

Licking your lips you prepare to give her an explanation as to what she’s going to pull out is, but there’s no need for such thing as what she shows you next is very different from what you expected.

There’s now a pair of glasses and a needle in her hands; the monthly dose of antihistaminic she needs to help her body heal itself. It’s obvious Widowmaker knows what that is, since you’ve been giving her those shots since her transition started, so you can’t really understand the question until her next move.

One of her hands moves to your chest, where she pushes you back with just enough force to make you lay on the bed, your legs still hanging off of it. She then straddles your lap, looking down on you as she puts on the glasses, which’s high prescription must make it impossible for her to see.  
This becomes obvious when she frowns and blinks for a couple of times before pulling them down along the bridge of her nose until they rest on its tip. Still, this is enough to make you cover your mouth with the back of your head as you laugh at the briefly confused look on her face. She seems to find this funny too, because her lips curl into half a smile as she raises the needle and holds you down by the chest with her free hand.

“Did you think that was funny?”

“No, not at all.” You lie, betrayed by the wide smile on your face revealed as you move your hand away from your face to rest it on her thigh. You do the same with the opposite one, looking into her eyes with a slightly daring look as you do so. “Is there something wrong with that, doctor?”

Widowmaker seems to enjoy you playing along, because she raises her chin slightly at your remark.

“Of course not.” She says, the hand that was placed on your chest now caressing its way upwards. “But I feel like you’re not taking me seriously.”

You get goose bumps as her hand goes from touching the soft fabric of your dress to caressing the warm flesh of your neck. It’s obvious she’s joking, but the smile fades from your lips at the serious tone of her voice accompanied by the piercing stare she throws your way.

Anyone else would be absolutely terrified in your position, but you’re more than aware that fear is not what you’re feeling right now.

Her short nailed fingers wrap one by one around your neck, but not in a menacing way. There’s something loving about the gesture, you think as she looks down at her own hand with her lips slightly parted, as always curious as to what your reaction will be to her next movement. You swallow and then lick your lips in anticipation, glancing to the needle in her hand and then bringing your eyes back to her face once again.

 

She has leaned forward just enough to examine your face with more precision, and now that you’re able to do the same you realize there are only a few purple spots left on her skin now, a symptom similar to what a person with vitiligo may experience. Still, the very small amount of colored spots are a very faded tone of purple and not even close to the same vibrant color her skin used to be. They look like a bruise halfway through healing, which you consider is a perfect analogy for her situation.

Both of you share a long moment in this position; Widowmaker investigates your expression and the reaction of your skin to her touch as you caress her thighs that now rest on both sides of your lap. You always expect the unexpected from her, and as time has gone by you’re now perfectly aware of some of her most common habits.

Like when you wake up to her staring at the ceiling blankly, not being used to sleeping so much after Talon’s influence on her body prevented her from needing sleep for years. You learned they had been keeping her up and active by pumping insane amounts of chemicals into her veins, increasing the amount of hours she could be up and working for them. This only makes it more clear to you how she was just an object for them to use, and not a human being that worked for them. What kind of monster would come up with an idea like that? Transforming a human into an empty casket fueled by chemicals and pain. You’re pretty sure you know exactly what kind of monster would come up with such a concept. One you’ve once worked very close to, and whose name you’d rather not even think about ever again.

Or like when she shows interest in artistic subjects like playing music, drawing or dancing. Her brain is still recovering from years of damage, but she’s developed a very strong and curious personality. She doesn’t understand why someone would enjoy sitting down and listening to music, but she listening to it next to you just so she can see your reaction. She doesn’t know how a painting could make someone feel so many emotions, but she loves playing with paint to create busy artwork that sadly only you get to admire.

And she doesn’t know why watching her dance for you like Amélie used to you always brings tears to your eyes, but she can tell something about it makes you happy. So she keeps practicing day after day so she can do better next time. Just for you.

That’s why you remain silent, scared to ruin the moment for her. No art piece, long night of sleep or dance routine will ever overcome how interested she is in human behavior.

Not that she’s ever told you that explicitly, but you can easily tell by her behavior. How she looks at you when you’re cooking, or when you scream on the phone at someone. How she pierces you with her eyes every time she’s touching you, trying to understand, trying to mimic.

Luckily there’s not much mimicking she has to do nowadays, since her extraordinary progress makes her more and more capable of reacting like a normal human would in most situations. And although she knows she’ll never be completely ‘normal’, you can tell Widowmaker’s come to terms with this and is just glad to get the opportunity to change. She has a very strong spirit, which shows in her fast paced recovery. You’re incredibly proud of her, and you tell her every time you get the chance.

After a minute silence, with Widowmaker now running her fingers along your cheek, it’s her who decides to lean forward and kiss you again. This time it isn’t as quick as the last one; she takes her time exploring your lips and finally satisfying your need for this moment. The way she kisses you lets you know she’s just as hungry for you as you are for her.  
Still, it’s her who once more hast to make the first move and separate from you. You lick your lips as she does so, looking down to avoid Widowmaker’s gaze. You’re sure you look like a mess right now; your cheeks feel extremely hot and your hair must be a mess from the trip. But the sound of the other’s voice gets your attention and you to look up at her.

“I’ve missed you.” Is all she says, two of her fingers making their way through your skin from your ear to your cleavage.

“I’ve missed you too.” You reply, even more flustered than before. Your hands move up from Widowmaker’s thighs to her cheeks, caressing them with your thumbs. “So much. I’m sorry I couldn’t come visit sooner.”

“Don’t worry. I’m used to being here. Alone.” Her words make you purse your lips, to which she reacts by laughing. “What? I’m serious.” The hand she was using to caress your skin now moves away and towards your hairline, where she plays with some of the blond strands of hair of your fringe. “But I do appreciate having you around.”

In your mind, it’s obvious what Widowmaker is trying to say. Yes, she is certainly used to being alone. She’s spent years like that. But this is not the first time the woman has mentioned the fact that she wants you to visit more often. She even once brought up the possibility of you moving in with her, to which you gave a very vague answer at the time.  
It’s not that you are not interested in moving in with her; it’s actually one of the things you’re most looking forward to at the moment. It’s just that it feels like things are moving too fast, and you don’t want to invade Widowmaker’s space like that. There are a lot of things to take into consideration before you two can live together, and when you do you want to make sure everything is perfect and she’s happy to share her space with you.

After you being silent for a moment, not knowing what to answer, Widowmaker decides to lean forward once again to kiss the exposed skin of your forehead before moving away and standing up in front of you.  
You take the chance to sit up and search through your bag, looking for that thing you were so scared she’d find a moment ago.

“So, do you want to see your gift?”

Widowmaker had her back to you after getting up, but as soon as she hears the word ‘gift’ she turns around, clearly interested.

“Oh my, yes I do.”

“Come sit down.” You pat the space next to you in bed, and she does as you say.  
In addition, she covers her eyes with her hands and waits patiently for you to reveal your gift to her.

“I’m not sure how to do this.” You add with a laugh, holding a paper between your hands. Widowmaker only reacts letting out a confused sound so you decide to put said paper in her lap. “Okay, you can look now… I guess.”

You have absolutely no clue how she will react to your gift choice, so as she uncovers her eyes and looks down you stare at her biting your lower lip. Your gaze moves from her face to the paper that she’s now grabbing, and then back to her face once more.

“Traveling tickets?” The woman asks now that she recognizes the format. This doesn’t clear her confusion, probably because she’s perfectly aware about the fact that she can’t travel like a normal person can. “To… Horizon One. Huh. Qu’est-ce que c’est?”

You move a little closer to her, taking the paper from her hands and scratching the back of your neck in a nervous twitch.

“Well, it’s a base constructed by Lucheng Interstellar. It’s not new at all, but apparently it was abandoned and recently Winston has been very intent on getting it back up and running as a new Overwatch headquarter. It’s gone through a lot of renovations but there’s no one working or living there yet.” Widowmaker just looks at you and nods, understanding what you’re saying, but maintaining a neutral expression. You were about to be disappointed with her reaction when you remember you left out the most important part. “Oh. And it’s on the moon.”

This finally gets the woman’s attention, who raises her eyebrows and blinks a couple times.

“The moon?” She asks. You nod. “As in, the one in the sky?”

You laugh, covering your mouth with the tickets. “Yes, honey. The one in the sky.”

She seems more impressed than you expected. Not that her face is all that expressive; all she does is raise her eyebrows and stare at the paper you’re now holding for her to read. But you’ve gotten used to her behavior, and reading her reactions is becoming easier with each day you spend with the woman.

“So romantic.” She finally whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. A half smile appears on her lips as she takes the paper from your hands and puts it aside, now putting her arms around your body. “Thank you. I love it.”

Those words are a weight being lifted off of your shoulders. You’re so glad she liked your gift you can’t help it but smile and press your lips to hers, fully aware you’ll mess up both of your lipsticks with such reckless behavior. You couldn’t care less.

“I’m so glad to hear that.” You say once you move away from Widowmaker, staring at her still immaculate lipstick for a moment. She on the other hand runs her thumb under your lower lip, probably trying to fix the mess that’s been made of your makeup. You still can’t bring yourself to care about it at the moment, specially judging by the fact that you’re a disaster at makeup and it only took you about fifteen minutes to put together this evening.

“I guess I have to give you your present now, yes?”

“Well… you don’t have to, but it would be greatly appreciated.”

She smiles at you. You melt inside just seeing that.

Now holding your hand, Widowmaker stands up and takes you with her out of the room. You’re slightly confused as to why you have to exit the bedroom for her to give you her present, but you suppose you’ll be finding out very soon. So you don’t say anything, following the woman as she makes her way through the second floor of the castle towards the ballroom.

When you get to the door of said room, Widowmaker stops and lets go of your hands, standing in front of you as if she was waiting for you to do something. When you fail to fulfill her expectations, the woman signals for you to turn around to face the door and then covers your eyes with her hands, standing right behind you. Her body is now pressed to your back as she guides your steps forwards into the room. Instinctively you put your arms forward to avoid running into something, but Widowmaker makes sure you make your way safely to some place of the room you can’t recognize with your eyes covered.

“Don’t open them.” The woman whispers next to your ear, which sends a shiver down your spine, before moving her hands away from your eyes and stepping through the room. This leaves you alone, now using your own hands to cover your eyes as you wait for Widowmaker’s surprise, tense and nervous from the anticipation.

There’s no warning before a melody suddenly starts piercing the silence that just a moment ago flooded the castle. A string of notes playing one after the other, coming from a… piano?

You decide to move your hands away from your eyes even though you haven’t been instructed to do so yet, but any reprimand would be worth the sight you’re now faced with.

Widowmaker is now sitting in front of the keys of a majestic black piano that you’re absolutely sure wasn’t there the last time you visited her. Her slender fingers move with the expertise of someone that’s been learning how to play piano for years, even though you’re perfectly aware that’s not the case for her. She’s incredibly fast at learning, and even if the music being played isn’t absolutely perfect, for you it’s the most amazing sound you’ve ever heard. 

You don't recognize the melody she's playing, but it doesn't strike you as weird since, even though you pretty much introduced her to listening to music (it seemed to be a very therapeutic method that would help in her recovery, and apparently it wasn't something she had ever done for pleasure before), the woman has probably spent enough time to listening to it on her own that she may as well be more educated on the topic than you.

After contemplating the possibility for a moment, you decide to move towards the piano and take a seat next to the woman, your hands resting on the same stool you're now sitting on as your eyes travel to study Widowmaker's experienced fingers dancing around the keys.

[](https://ibb.co/VmPphYC)

_Art by @AcousticMalta on Twitter and Tumblr_

It's not perfect, you can tell. A couple notes seem slightly off, and there are some awkward pauses in the middle of the song, but it's still the most delightful sound you've ever heard. Because it's her playing. And it's for you to listen. The moment is magic, and you wish it never had to stop. You'd be glad to sit next to Widowmaker for the next few years listening to her play music, looking at the way her brow furrows when she concentrates on something as much as she is on pressing those keys in the correct order right now.

Sadly and to your disappointment, her fingers eventually stop moving along the piano and the room falls silent once again. This only lasts for a moment though, because you immediately start clapping as soon as you have a moment to assimilate what just happened. Widowmaker seems almost flustered by the whole situation, which you can't say you have seen too often. The woman usually carries such a heavy and imposing aura that it's almost uncomfortable seeing her be anything other than confident.

"That was amazing." You finally manage to say, putting one hand on her chin to force her to look at you. "What's wrong?"

"It wasn't amazing, that's what's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

With a sigh, Widowmaker looks the other way once more. Her beauty is reminiscent of that of a painting; there's something tragic and beautiful at the same time in her. Even more now that she looks away from you and down at her fingers, which now rest on top of her thighs.

"I wrote it. For you, as a gift." She confesses, looking expressionless to a stranger's eyes. But you can looking at her blank expression that there's something more than indifference in her. "It seemed like a good idea, but now that it's done I'm reevaluating my choice."

"Wait... you wrote it?" You almost cut her off, pointing at the paper on top of the piano where a turmoil of notes are scattered. "The song?"

This gets her attention, because now she's finally looking up and into your face. For a moment her eyes look away to stare at the paper you're pointing at, examining it as if to make sure you're looking at the same thing.

"Yes. The song."

It's not hard to understand why Widowmaker wouldn't see this as a big thing, but from the point of view of the doctor that has been following the process of her recovery for the longest time, knowing this brings tears to your eyes.

Much like a robot created to complete a certain task, it's always been really hard for Widowmaker's brain to create artistic content of her own. It's not strange that Widowmaker doesn't find this weird, since she has never known any better, but working with her for months and months on end it's been extremely frustrating trying to figure out why she couldn't create any original kind of art.  
If you gave her a pen and a piece of paper, she would draw something that already existed that she could see in the moment or remember very vividly, but she could never add something new that her brain hadn't already registered.

Same thing with music. She could play something that already existed with no difficulty, but besides smashing a few random keys in any order to get a sound out, there wasn’t much her mind could do to create a coherent string of notes. It was like the part of her brain that was meant to create this content from scratch was just… turned off. Or worse, gone. And although Widowmaker can’t miss creating art since she’s never known how to do it in the first place, it made you incredibly sad to know she wouldn’t be able to experience it, especially knowing how passionate Amélie used to be about this subject. And judging by the similarities between the two, you were absolutely sure Widowmaker would feel the same about it.

So you never gave up trying to inspire her to create, to take a brush and paint something, to listen to music and try to come up with her own tune… but after a long time little to no progress seemed to be made. Widowmaker put her heart and soul into it, but it was clear she was just unable to wake that part of her brain that seemed to have been sleeping for ages.

That’s why knowing that Widowmaker herself came up with the tune you just listened to brings tears to your eyes. It’s not an amazing song, it doesn’t sound perfect, but she made it. She created it herself, from nothing. And she did it for you in more than one way.

“What’s wrong?” As always when you cry, your lover panics.

In a normal person, panicking would mean screaming and running around the room, but for stone-faced Widowmaker, seeing her frown at you and put her hand on your arm is enough to let you know she’s freaking out on the inside. You laugh.

“Nothing’s wrong. That’s amazing, love.” You sniffle, bringing the back of your hand to your nose and looking down. You can feel the other woman’s gaze fixated on you as you look away for a moment, but when you stare at her again you are smiling, eyes still wet. “I love it. I love you.”

Once again, she doesn’t understand. Why you’re crying and smiling at the same time. Why her song had such an impact on you. But she trusts you blindly to help her learn, so when you tell her nothing’s wrong, she believes you.

Her hands come up to cup your face and she leans forward, touching your nose with hers. You cover the back of her hands with your own, closing your eyes for a moment as you press your foreheads together.

“I love you too.” Widowmaker replies. After a few seconds, you separate your faces just to immediately bring them together again for a kiss.

How much you wish you could just do this every day. Sit next to this woman as she plays piano, kiss her, have dinner, go out at night to see the beach in the moonlight, go to sleep next to someone every night. Not just someone, but the woman you love. 

“Okay.” You try to regain your composure once you manage to pull away from Widowmaker, coughing and looking away for an instant, slightly embarrassed about your reaction. “So, what’s in the menu for tonight?”

“Besides you?”

You blush.

“Besides me.” You whisper, fighting back a smile.

Widowmaker responds by standing up and offering you her hand, and you place yours on top of it without a trace of hesitation.

“Come with me, I’ll show you. I have a delightful evening planned for the both of us.”

With a wide smile in your face and your heart fluttering at the sight of the woman you love, you stand up and follow her, dreaming about this being your life every day.

 

***

The surprise you had planned for the evening went better than you could have ever expected.

Angela seemed to absolutely love it, you’re not sure why, but you’re not sure why you enjoyed so much playing it for her in the first place either. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you won’t ever understand how a lot of things work when it comes to emotional matters, so as long as you can make Angela happy, you’re content.

You’re now leading her downstairs, where there’s an amazing dinner prepared for both of you. You cross a couple omnics on your way down, and Angela takes the time to smile awkwardly at all of them.

“You know they can’t smile back, right?” You tell her, raising an eyebrow. “They don’t even have a mouth.”

“I know, I know. I can’t help it.”

“Why?” There’s no mean intent behind your words, and you’re sure Angela knows this. It’s just pure curiosity. “They don’t even understand what saying hi means.”

“Have you asked them?”

“Well…” You frown, looking down as you turn the corner towards the large dining room where your dinner is waiting. “No. They just work and they go turn off in a room, of course they don’t understand human interaction.”

“But you didn’t either until a couple years ago, right?” She teases, hugging your arm and resting her chin in your shoulder for a moment. You don’t need to look at her to know there’s a smile on her lips.

“It’s not the same.”

“How come?”

“I’m made of flesh and bones.”

“And they’re made of metal and gears. It doesn’t make a difference.” You sigh at her insistence of making you feel empathetic for the robots working at your castle, and Angela notices. She rubs your arm with her thumb trying to palliate your frustration. “Listen, all I’m saying is, I’ve worked next to omnics more eloquent and intelligent than most humans I know. Maybe you could consider them… roommates.”

“I would go crazy if I had to interact with these toasters every single day. They’re not sentient, and I’m happy with it being that way. I just hope you don’t change that by trying to have a conversation with them every time you come over.”

The blonde laughs and that sound makes the mental gymnastics you just had to do worth it.

Finally you reach the grand dining hall, where dinner has already been served. It’s a long table, but instead of sitting each one on one end you sit right next to each other. After spending a month away from your lover, you’re not willing to move away from her, not even to eat.  
Angela doesn’t seem unhappy with your decision either, because as soon as you two sit she leans towards you with her elbows resting on the table and a smile on her lips.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She replies, still looking at you with that happy stare. “I’m just really glad I came, thank you for coming up with this idea.”

“My pleasure.” You move your hand under the table to place it on her knee, and that touch as always makes her immediately part her legs. Her cheeks heat up and turn slightly red under your gaze once she realizes. Now you’re the one smiling. “Thank you for coming over and spending time with me, I know how hard it is for you to make some time for me.”

“I wish I could visit you more often.”

She knows what you’re going to say before you say it, but you still decide to speak.

“Then move in here with me.”

Angela sighs.

“You know I can’t.” The blonde sighs, turning her head back for a moment as she hears the omnics make their way from the kitchen to you, carrying two plates that they place in front of you. Still, your eyes stay fixated on her.

“I know you work from your terrifying apartment for most of the time.”

“Hey, what do you mean terrifying?”

“What do I mean?” You move your hand away from the woman’s leg, and she takes her chance to grab a fork and a knife and attack her food. You just keep staring at her, resting the side of your face on the palm of your hand. “It’s small, it’s dark, it’s always dirty and the dishes are never done. There’s clothes everywhere all the time, used coffee mugs on every flat surface…”

[](https://ibb.co/zS8FPS2)   
_Art by @lan-i on Twitter and Tumblr_

“Okay.” Wanting to interrupt you without speakinf with her mouth full, Angela covers her mouth with her hand as she speaks. “I get it, you don’t like my apartment.”

“I hate it.”

“Okay. You hate it.” She sighs. You’re not making this easy on her, only because you’re so sure you’re in the right you won’t give in to her that easily. “The more reason not to move in here. I will turn the château into the mess that is now my apartment, is that what you want?”

“I would never allow that, darling.” You tell her with a chuckle, running one of the fingers of your free hand along the length of the fork in front of you. “There’s omnics working here that take care of the cleaning and organizing.”

Apparently you’re making a good point, because Angela slowly brings another bite of food to her lips in silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Not to mention, there’s no noise around here besides the relaxing sound of the waves moving back and forth… Doesn’t that sound like an amazing scenario to concentrate?”

“I guess so.” She gives in, now finally looking at you. Her eyes travel through your different features of your face, but yours stay fixated on her lips for a moment. Eventually you manage to look up into her eyes again. “But how could I concentrate with you around?”

That brings a smile to your lips.

“I would behave.” You assure her, bringing a hand to your chest in a modest gesture. “I promise. I’m aware it would be hard, but you are a professional, you’ll manage, yes?”

With a laugh, Angela responds. “Yeah, right. Now you’re talking like it’s already settled.”

“Is it not?”

She gives you a look like you’re her child, begging her to buy you a candy. You guess that situation isn’t that different from this one.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking me to do.”

“Why do you act like it’s such a big deal? We enjoy our time together, you always say you wish you could visit me more often, or stay for longer. You don’t like cooking, and you wouldn’t have to cook if you stayed here. I could take care of you, like you’ve taken care of me.” You pour your heart out when you speak, and even if your voice tone and your face express neutrality you want to believe Angela understands the weight of your words.

She stares at you, pressing her lips together, and finally moves her hand to put it on top of yours.

“I want to, Widow, it’s just…”

“What?”

“It’s just you don’t understand how much you’re giving up by living with someone else. You won’t have your own personal space; you won’t be able to spend that much time alone even if you want to.”

“I’ve spend my time alone for too long.”

Angela swallows.

“I want to be with you.” You add after a long pause. “And I know you want to be with me. I miss you every second you spend away from me.”

“I know. It’s the same for me.” She whispers back. You knew your feelings were reciprocated, but it doesn’t hurt to hear it out loud. “But I don’t want you to regret asking me this, it’s a huge change and it’s…” The doctor purses her lips, looking up searching for the perfect word.

“Scary?”

“Yeah. It’s scary.” The woman seems content with your choice of word, and now waits in silence for your answer, which takes a while. You plan your wording carefully.

“If someone knows about change, that’s me. My life has changed so much in the past year… well, I don’t even think what I had before could even be considered a life.” You correct yourself. “I was scared when your friends captured me. I was scared when I saw you that day in your white lab coat treating me like a stranger.” It’s clear Angela wants to say something, but she keeps quiet as you speak. You’re thankful for that, since it’s taking all your effort to put your feelings into words. “But if I hadn’t decided to work with you, despite everything that could go wrong, I wouldn’t be here today.” You turn your hand around to hold hers, bringing it to your lips and softly kissing her knuckles. “I wouldn’t know you like I do. I don’t know if I would even be alive.”

You need a moment before speaking again. Your thumb draws circles on the back of Angela’s hands, something you do to relax when your feelings get a little too intense for comfort.

“The thing is, I know you’re afraid of change. I was too. But I want to try. I know I can make you happy.”

“I know you can, too.” She finally answers. There’s a soft smile on her face, and she raises her free hand to caress your cheek. Both of your plates have been forgotten and the food is getting cold, but none of you care right now. “I guess there’s no harm in trying, right?”

Expressing emotions isn’t your forte, but a surprisingly natural smile appears in your lips. It catches you off guard, but you don’t hold back this time. She is cooperating with you, so you try to be a good sport and give something back. A simple detail like a smile wouldn’t be a big deal in someone else, but Angela and you are perfectly aware that these displays of joy aren’t common in you and are to be celebrated.

After such an intense moment, you can finally get to eating once again. You’re in an even better mood than a couple hours ago, and although the food is delicious you have to be extremely careful as to not mess up the makeup you put on for the special occasion.

You share smiles and knowing looks, words are needless for most part of the time you spent together. The doctor and you share an affinity that goes beyond that, and a simple stare can be enough to tell one another what you’re thinking most of the time.  
Still, this doesn’t stop you from asking Angela to tell you every detail about her work and the situation in Overwatch’s headquarters. Not that you care about the state of the organization at all, you just love seeing the shine in her eyes when she speaks about something she feels so intensely for.

By the time you’re done eating and there’s only a piece of cake and a glass of wine (the second of the night for Angela, the third for you) in front of both of you, the conversation has luckily deviated to something you can actually participate on.

[](https://ibb.co/NCJ0S96)

_Art by @bunbbal on Twitter and Tumblr_

“It does feel weird.” You answer when the woman asks about the effect of alcohol on your body. You used to be able to drink and drink nonstop, since your body processed the alcohol fast enough for you to suffer almost no consequence at all from consuming it. But now as your body heals and starts working at a normal pace, you find yourself unable to drink as much or as frequently as you’re used to. “It’s like things start happening in slow motion after the fourth or fifth glass.”

“Fourth or fifth glass?” Angela asks in a high pitched tone, catching even herself off guard. She laughs so hard a few crumbles of cake fall of her lips and into the table in front of her and she leans forward unable to stop laughing, one hand covering her mouth. Even you chuckle, bringing one hand to your chest as you look at the red blotch that’s become her face. “Look at me, it only takes two glasses to have me acting like a fool…”

“You’re an adorable fool.” You respond, bringing your own glass to your lips and taking a sip as if you were proving a point. The alcohol is having some effects on you as well, like the heat you’re feeling rising to your cheeks or the easiness with which you start laughing as opposite to the usual solemnity you carry yourself with. It just doesn’t affect you as fast as it does Angela. “I could look at you for ages.”

“Why stop at looking?” The blonde adds, half a smile uncontrollably appearing on her lips as she says so.  
You smile back at her and move your hand to caress the soft pink skin of her leg under the table, your hand already placed there from a moment ago. 

“I guess there’s no reason, is there.” There’s not a questioning tone to your words, which were supposed to present a question. Before Angela can have the chance to answer though, you lean forward to plant a soft kiss on the crook between her shoulder and her neck.

The blonde sighs and you can feel the heat of her skin transferring to your lips, but not burning as it used to in the past. You used to be so incredibly cold, even touching her could be painful to both of you.

That is, depending on where the touching was happening.

Luckily that doesn’t happen anymore, and after a first shock of surprise you’re free to move up and kiss your way to Angela’s jawline. The hand that you had resting on her leg now moves up to cup her cheek and tilt her face in your direction so you can place a soft trail of kisses along her jaw with as much delicacy as you’re capable of. Angela closes her eyes and lets some very improper sounds escape her lips.

“Oh, Widow.” She moans at a certain point, as your hand makes its way from her face down to the front of her neck and through the neckline of the only slightly revealing dress she’s wearing, caressing her cleavage with the tips of your fingers.  
“I don’t know if we should do this.” You don’t have to look up to know she’s smiling; you can hear it in her voice as she drunkenly keeps speaking. “I mean… we’re not even married.” The woman continues with a low chuckle.

Upon hearing her words you decide to move your face away from her neck, although you don’t go too far. Only a few centimeters keep your faces apart, and even then your noses are almost touching. Your eyes scan through her face; her hair is a mess and her cheeks are the reddest you’ve ever seen them. There’s a drunken, happy smile on her face as she looks back at you, and you can’t contain a wide smile of your own. 

You love this woman, and she doesn’t even know the effect she has on you.

“Okay.” You finally start after a long pause, using your hand to carefully comb her hair in a futile attempt to tame the mess it’s become. “Then let’s do it.”

With her eyes still closed, Angela lets out a relaxed sigh as you keep caressing her hair.

“Do what?”

“Get married.”

She laughs. You stay quiet.

“Right.”

“I’m not joking, Angela.” Trying to get her attention you put your hands on both sides of her face, running your thumbs along her cheeks. She places her hands over yours. “Let’s get married.”

That gets her to open her eyes and look at you. Her smile starts fading as she realizes you’re being serious with your proposal.

“What do you mean you’re not joking? I mean, I was joking…” The blonde licks her lips and uses her hands to grab your wrists, holding yours into place in both sides of her face. “We don’t have to get married to… well, you know.”

You laugh, louder and more openly than you have in the whole night.

“Yes, love, I know that. But now that I think about it, I don’t know why we shouldn’t get married. Especially if you’re moving in with me. It makes sense, right?”

“Makes sense…” She whispers back in disbelief, frowning and staring intensely into your eyes with the edges of her lips slightly curved upwards. “Only you could think this scenario makes sense…”

“What would I have to do for you to say yes?” You sincerely ask her, tilting your head to the side.

She takes her hand and puts her on your cheek, almost imitating your gesture. “Nothing I… I would say yes.” It’s like she’s coming to this realization at the same time she’s saying it out loud.

“Then where’s the problem?”

“Well… this is not how it’s done and… you’ve had a few glasses of wine. This isn’t how it normally goes.”

“I don’t think we are normal at all Angela.” 

This leaves her thinking, and as she quietly thinks you take the chance to move away from your chair and get on one knee on the floor in front of her as you now hold her hand between yours.

“Oh.” She says, leaving her mouth slightly open as she looks down at you, confused.

“Angela Ziegler.” You start, letting out a soft laugh as you say her name. There’s nothing funny about it, but you haven’t felt this carefree and genuinely happy in your whole life. So you let your newly discovered emotions take the wheel. “Will you give me the honor of being my wife?”

Angela closes and opens her mouth a couple of times, probably thinking about a reason to say no, a way to tell you this is crazy and it’s not how things are supposed to happen. It wouldn’t be the first time she has to explain to you social etiquette, but it doesn’t seem like she’ll go through with it this time.

Instead she licks her lips, laughs in an incredulous way and shrugs.

“Yes? I mean, yes, I guess.” She uses her free hand to cover her face for a moment, laughing, out of control, and then finally says with a lot more conviction. “Yes! Hell, I would love to.”

There’s no ring involved, to family, no video recording, no walk on the beach riding a white horse, no rose petals…  
Angela takes her cup and downs its content from one gulp before kneeling in front of you and wrapping her arms around your neck. She kisses you with enough force to make you fall back and lay on the floor. You can hear the tiara she was wearing fall to the ground above your heads as you share an intimate moment there, laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. She strokes your cheek, you caress her shoulder. Angela pulls you in for a kiss and then hugs you tighter and tighter until you’re not able to breathe for a moment.

It’s nothing like the movies you have seen with her in the past, and still, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was made for the Overwatch Femslash Big Bang! Thank you so much to @AcousticMalta (twitter and tumblr), @bolbbal (twitter and tumblr) and @lan-i (tumblr) for the amazing artwork they created for this. I loved participating in this project. You guys should definitely go check out the rest of the participants' work by visiting owfemslashbigbang.tumblr.com


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